


Who Are You?

by yellheahhhhhh



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: :))), AAAAAA, Amnesia, Angst, F/M, I don’t know what I’m writing, M/M, One Shot, amnesia time amnesia time, bitty’s junior year, did i accidentally write jack as nd??? whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27352036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellheahhhhhh/pseuds/yellheahhhhhh
Summary: Jack’s heart dropped as he watched the defensive player ram himself into Bitty, causing him to hit his head against the wall and lose the puck.  He’s seen Bitty recover and get up from hits like this before, but the panic was still instilled in him.  It grew when he heard the crowd go “Oooh.”  It grew, even more, when Bitty didn’t get up.  The crowd entered a deadly silence, and white static filled Jack’s ears.  He noticed his friends and former teammates, as well as his coaches, scramble towards Bitty to get him off of the ice.  Bitty was hit, and he wasn’t getting back up.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Larissa "Lardo" Duan/Shitty Knight
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	Who Are You?

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i’ve never posted to ao3 before and this is a lil one shot of a zimbits amnesia au where bitty gets hit and suffers from retrograde amnesia his junior year. i wrote it mainly for enjoyment and because i love writing angst and writing these characters in a situation like this is such a fun challenge! i was told i should post it here, so without further ado, here is “Who Are You?”
> 
> p.s. sorry if the formatting is weird. had to paste it from a google doc

When Jack was watching Bitty’s Friday night hockey game with Shitty, he wasn’t worried. Sitting on the cold metal bleachers of the Faber ice rink, he felt he was at home. The light through the windows, seeing his former coaches standing at the walls by the rink, and seeing his former teammates on the ice. The Falconers are amazing, but they will never be Samwell. They will never have Bitty. 

He knew how far Bitty had come, how much he had improved. He loved him so much, and he was so proud. He remembered their first kiss so easily, as if it was yesterday. The feeling when he grabbed Bitty’s hands, knowing that he never felt that before, and the way Bitty embraced him. Jack had regrets about the way he used to treat Bitty, but now he couldn’t be happier. He had never been so sure of something in his life, and with Bitty, he always felt like he was welcome and important. So Jack was definitely thrilled to see Bitty play.

When he looked at Shitty, he could tell by the look in his eyes he was beyond ecstatic to see the game. He also followed Shitty’s gaze to a certain someone.

Jack smirked, “Looking at someone special, I see,” he teased, looking at Lardo. “Imagine being straight.”

“Shut the fuck up, brah,” Shitty laughed. “She’s so pretty.” Shitty noticed Bitty on the field, speeding past the other players, as fast as the wind. “Look at your little boyfriend! He’s fucking tearing it up out there, holy shit.” When he glanced at Jack, expecting a response, but Jack did nothing but smile. Shitty snorted. “Hey, earth to Jack Zimmermann,” he snickered, flicking Jack’s ear.

“What?” Jack asked, obviously confused.

“You weren’t paying attention to anything I fucking said, were you?” Shitty rolled his eyes.

“Uh...no... was I supposed to be?”

Shitty shook his head and looked back at the ice. “Such a fucking himbo.”

“What’s a himbo?” Jack replied, even more bewildered than before.

Shitty cackled in response. Jack had no idea what he was talking about, which made Shitty laugh even more. Eventually, a silence fell upon the two as they watched the game intently. A goal was scored on the opposing team and the crowd roared with delight. With the next setup, the other team got the puck, and Whiskey was up against the player at the front.

With two swift shifts, Whiskey was in possession of the puck. Bitty was coming up on the right, hoping to get ahead for the next pass, knowing Whiskey would try to play it forward. The scraping sound of Bitty’s skates on the ice stopped momentarily as he eventually received a pass from Whiskey. Looking up, Bitty’s eyes were filled with determination. He passed the first defensive player so quickly that he was practically turned around. Bitty kept his head up as the next player sized him up, looking for an outlet. But he wasn’t fast enough.

Jack’s heart dropped as he watched the defensive player ram himself into Bitty, causing him to hit his head against the wall and lose the puck. He’s seen Bitty recover and get up from hits like this before, but the panic was still instilled in him. It grew when he heard the crowd go “Oooh.” It grew, even more, when Bitty didn’t get up. The crowd entered a deadly silence, and white static filled Jack’s ears. He noticed his friends and former teammates, as well as his coaches, scramble towards Bitty to get him off of the ice. Bitty was hit, and he wasn’t getting back up.

“Fuck,” Shitty whispered, his jaw dropped so far that Jack was surprised it wasn’t hitting the floor. Shitty looked at Jack, who kept glancing between the field and Shitty, his big blue eyes getting wider and wider with each turn. Shitty tugged at Jack’s sleeve. “Hey, man, you okay?”

Jack wasn’t able to give a response. His mouth was dry, and he felt like something was crawling up his throat. He stared as Bitty was carried off of the ice. Finally, he looked back at Shitty. “We need to go.”

“Jack, Bitty will be fine, this has happened before,” Shitty said reassuringly. “Some asshole always fucks him over, this is no different.”

That didn’t calm Jack’s worry whatsoever. “Shitty, you don’t understand.” His voice shook, which Shitty had never heard before. The memories of Bitty crumpling up into a ball so many times flashed through his mind. Jack thought of Bitty’s first checking practice, and the game at the end of Bitty’s freshman year when he wasn’t able to keep Bitty from being checked. He felt the same helplessness as he did that day seeing Bitty fall to the ice. It was different, though. Not only was Jack not there with him, but Bitty also didn’t curl up. There was no shaking. He was just limp. Flat. Like a twig snapped in half. “This has happened before, but usually he gets up or he is at least responsive. He did nothing. He just was laying on the ice.”

Shitty sighed. “Jack, we still can’t leave during a game. The rest of Samwell’s hockey team is still playing, even if Bitty isn’t. And besides, we won’t be able to see him for a while if something’s fucked up anyway.”

Jack nodded, looking vacantly out onto the ice. 

Minutes later, the game clock went off and it had ended. Samwell lost 2-1. Jack got himself up and walked towards the locker room to visit his teammates. He reminisced as he walked through the halls, and wondered when the nostalgia would end, if it ever did. Shitty was on his heels happily. They both mingled with other Samwell Men’s Hockey fans on the way and eventually knocked on the door to the locker room. None other than Ransom and Holster opened the door. Both were cheerful, trying to keep an upbeat atmosphere despite the game, instead of letting the locker room become a melancholy storm of apprehension about the loss, and about Bitty’s hit.

“Look who it is!” Ransom declared to the locker room.

The familiar smell of sweat tinged Jack’s nose. He stared at the faces he recognized and smiled weakly. His mind was already preoccupied, trying to figure out where Bitty might be, and how he might be doing.

Shitty shoved past Jack to greet Ransom and Holster. “Well, hello, captains,” Shitty grinned. “You guys played well!”

Whiskey, who was getting up to leave, retorted, “Other than the fact that we lost,” as he ran his fingers through his short brown hair and brushed past Jack hurriedly.

Holster scoffed at Whiskey as he passed by. “Don’t mind him,” he told Shitty, annoyed. “He gets like that sometimes.”

Shitty nodded knowingly. “Jack used to be like that too, didn’t you, Jack?” he elbowed Jack, who was eyeing the locker room frantically, trying to find words. He kept expecting to see Bitty, but he wasn’t there. It felt like there was an empty space without him. Some sort of positive energy was absent. Jack didn’t want to be rude, but all he wanted to do was see Bitty and make sure he was okay.

Ransom laughed, “Yeah, I remember-”

“Where’s Bitty?” Jack finally interjected.

As Jack’s words dissipated into the air, a stale stillness took hold of the locker room. Nobody dared uttered a word, and shifty eyes from every player scanned the area. Jack noted Holster staring at the wall, and Ransom was fixated on his feet. Tango was sitting at the back, his leg bouncing up and down like a rubber ball as he twiddled his thumbs with his lips pressed into a thin line.

A jittery Chowder was now standing beside Holster in front of Shitty and Jack, shuffling his feet. “He’s at the ER,” Chowder answered softly, staring at his feet. “Nursey and Dex are talking to the coaches about him right now.” Chowder looked up at Shitty, shaking more with anxiety the more he talked about Bitty. “Lardo’s on her way there, actually,” he added hesitantly, as if he wasn’t supposed to disclose that information. “I don’t know if she’ll be able to see him, but she’s in contact with the coaches.”

Jack’s mouth went dry again, and cold air filled his lungs. His face went hot, but his hands were shivering. He crossed his arms, clicked his tongue, and finally spoke. “We need to go,” he reiterated to Shitty. “We can see the team later. Lardo’s there anyway.”

Shitty, now noticing Jack’s entire body was trembling with fear and worry, heaved a sigh of exasperation. “We need to go,” he agreed, informing the team. Those left in the locker room, anyway. “We’ll catch you guys later?”

“Ransom and I will be right behind you,” Holster responded. “The rest of the team is heading back to the Haus.”

Without saying goodbye, Jack stalked through the doorway out of the locker room, his pulse was practically buzzing. When Shitty followed him, this time he wasn’t radiant anymore. His smirk had dropped, and his feet started to drag. Jack noticed the mood change, but he disregarded it. He was trapped in his own head, concentrated with each long step in the hallways towards the outside world of Faber. The lights seemed to dim with them, and the hallway looked as if it was extending even more. Soon, they finally stepped out into the cold brisk air of the parking lot. The game had continued through the day’s sunset, and the sky’s darkness spilled into the concrete, only resisted by the bright yellow lights of parked cars and mountainous street lamps. Jack could see his breath, and noticed Shitty’s nose turning red with the piercing air.

“We left your car at the Haus, right?” Shitty asked Jack. When Jack nodded, Shitty said, “Alright, we can take mine.”

“Thanks,” Jack murmured.

The two of them piled into the car, slamming each door shut. Shitty started the car, and the gentle rev of the engine put Jack a little bit more at ease. They rode to the hospital in a suffocating quiet, making them drown in the stunning lack of conversation between them. It had occurred to Jack that this was the first time they sat together in silence in years. Jack hated the anticipation of arriving at the hospital, but he appreciated the tranquility that came with the ride.

When they pulled into the hospital parking lot, the building towered over them. It reminded Shitty of a horror movie, and it put a chill through Jack’s spine. Reluctantly, Jack got out of the car, following Shitty to the front door. The rhythm of their steps reminded Jack of a clock, making the memory of waiting for hockey games prominent in his mind. He had never noticed the game clock until Bitty mentioned it to him. It was one of the many things Bitty opened Jack’s eyes to. 

As Jack opened the glass door to the hospital, the fluorescent lights filled his vision. Shitty and Jack stepped carefully onto the white speckled tiles of the hospital floor. They walked through gray hallways with flickering lights, and the scent of misery tinted the air that surrounded them as they passed by suffering patients and panicking doctors. With each waiting room, they scanned for Lardo.

“Hey, boys,” a voice sounded behind them. Shitty’s eyes sparked when he turned around to see Lardo, and Jack let out a half smile. Lardo looked the same as always, but this time she was coated with exhaustion. Her dark hair was ruffled, and her posture hung lower than usual, making her look even smaller than before. Even with her size, Lardo still held a strong presence, but this time her essence was faintly disappearing into the environment of the hospital. Jack could only imagine what her drive to the hospital alone was like. Judging by the fact that she left during a game without any of the teammates or coaches, he came to the conclusion that it was probably frantic and nerve-wracking. Shitty launched himself into Lardo for a hug, and adamantly refused to let go. “Looking for Bitty, I assume?” she questioned, an eyebrow raised.

Shitty nodded and nestled his chin on top of Lardo’s head. “Jack couldn’t wait.”

Lardo held on to Shitty’s arms as they wrapped around her, and let her raised eyebrow fall. “Well, I got Mr. and Mrs. Bittle’s contact info from the coaches, and I’ve been updating them,” she reported. “He’s still knocked out as far as I know, but the doctor said he should be awake any second now, and I know where his room is.” Lardo took notice at Jack’s alarmed look, and lightly punched his arm. “Hey, dude, Bits will be fine. He’s tough, remember?”

Jack gulped and nodded in response.

Shitty, still holding Lardo in his arms, kissed her head, and whispered, “He’s just a bit worried.”

“I can see why,” Lardo muttered.

“Ms. Duan?” In front of Jack and behind Shitty and Lardo, stood a tall, olive-skinned woman in a lab coat, black pants, a blue flowy top, and black heels. Her posture was elevated and straight, as if she had never once bent over in her life. She maintained a calm and professional appearance, making Jack and Shitty assume she must be the doctor Lardo had mentioned before The woman was taken aback when she noticed Shitty and Jack. “Oh, you two must be Eric’s friends.”

“Yeah, they’re with me,” Lardo confirmed. “How is he? Can we see him?” she requested, ever so aware of how restless and eager to see Bitty Jack was.

The doctor bit her bottom lip nervously, which made Jack tense up. “Yes, his room is down the hall, but-”

Jack, not bothering to listen to the rest of her sentence, stepped past Shitty and Lardo. “Which room?” he demanded, his voice hushed but steady and tense.

“Sir, you need to let me finish,” the doctor stated evenly. “There’s something you might want to know first.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll see it,” Jack said, starting to walk down the hall again.

The doctor exhaled slowly and turned to Shitty and Lardo. “I suppose he’s right, follow me.” Her heels clicked with each step, and her lab coat trailed behind her, while Shitty and Lardo did exactly what she instructed. “It’s the next room on your left,” she called to Jack. “You might’ve missed it on your way in.”

Jack stopped at the door on his left, and placed a hand on the freezing silver doorknob. His hands were clammy, and the image of Bitty falling on the ice replayed in his head. Soon, the doctor, Shitty, and Lardo caught up to him. He could feel his face heat up again as his breath sped up. He looked back at Shitty, whose eyes were big as he took in Jack’s distraught expression, and Lardo, who hung onto Shitty’s arm with a hopeful countenance. Both of them inaudibly portrayed the message “We’re right behind you, we have your back.” That nonverbal exchange gave Jack the courage to slowly turn the doorknob and push the door open.

The first thing Jack noticed about the room was that instead of the medical smell of chemicals that the hospital was filled with, it had a subtle scent of flowers, despite the room being filled with suspense. The room was so light and seemingly unreal that it almost looked tinted blue to Jack. Finally, his eyes rested on a hospital bed, where Bitty sat in a light blue hospital gown, with a disoriented expression. 

“Bitty, oh my god,” Jack breathed heavily, rushing towards the bed to embrace him. But once he got close enough, Bitty pushed him away, causing him to careen backwards, almost losing his footing. Once he did, he looked upset, which made Bitty even more bewildered. “Bitty…”

“Who are you?” Bitty asked, gawking at Jack.

Those three words made Jack’s heart fracture into pieces. The room suddenly started to spin, and he couldn’t respond, only space out and stare blankly into nothing. His chest felt like someone had shoved a knife through it, and his entire body was burning in numbingly frigid flames. Jack’s nails dug into his palms, and it felt like his mind was shutting down. Instead of being able to speak, he got the sensation that his tongue was ripped out and thrown onto the wall, and his voice had left him. Even if he could find his voice, he still wouldn’t be able to find the words. Jack gripped onto the side of the hospital bed to find his balance and ground himself, but nothing helped. All of the sudden, he was incredibly aware of the sounds around him. The footsteps in the hallway, patients, doctors, and family members and friends of patients all talking, phones ringing, and the breath of those in the room with him.

“Jack…?” Lardo said softly, stepping towards him.

When Jack finally spoke, all he could say was, “I have to go.” Rushing from Bitty’s hospital room, Jack passed Ransom and Holster, who were navigating through the maze of brightly lit hallways. Even when they tried to get his attention, Jack said nothing to them. He simply stormed out of the hospital, and sat at the front wall on the sidewalk. He picked up a pebble and threw it on the pitch black ground of the parking lot in front of him. Jack put his face in his palms, and later ran his hands through his hair. Shaking, he looked at his knees.

“Shit,” Jack muttered shakily, as his entire body trembled with both anguish and frustration. Staring out at the parking lot, he wished he could disappear into the void that was the concrete that sat beneath the cars. “Shit!” Jack repeated, raising his voice.

“Jack?”

When Jack noticed the silhouettes of Ransom and Holster in the light streaming from the hospital door, he then realized there was a tear welling at his eye, threatening to break free and run down his cheek.

Ransom moved to sit on Jack’s right side, while Holster took to the left. “Jack, what’s up?” Holster asked, slowly descending to take a seat on the sidewalk.

“We’re both here for you,” Ransom added as both he and Holster shared a glance. “What happened in there?” Ransom’s demeanor slowly shifted into a worried state. “Is Bitty okay?”

The door swung open, and Shitty had soon joined the boys on the sidewalk. “Jack, there you are,” Shitty said breathlessly, as if he had dashed through the halls of the hospital. “Lardo’s talking to the doctor.” Shitty sat next to Ransom. “Jack, please talk to us.”

Ransom started to glance between Jack and Shitty in a confused frenzy. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded. Jack sat with no response, as he couldn’t find the words again. Instead, he avoided his friends’ gazes and focused on the endless night sky above them.

“Bitty lost his memory,” Shitty finally explained after a moment of dull quiet.

The quiet returned, and this time it was Ransom and Holster who were searching for what to say. “Do you think he’ll get it back any time soon?” Holster asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.

Shitty shrugged. “The gist is we don’t know. That’s what Lardo’s getting from the doctor, anyway.”

Ransom finally caught Jack’s eye, and questioned him, “Hey man, you okay?”

Jack gazed past Ransom in an idle manner, and finally rose to his feet. “I’m going back to see him,” he told the group, trying to sound as confident as he could, and trying to at least regain whatever dignity he had before. He was never like that in front of anyone, except for maybe Bitty. But now Bitty’s loyalty to him probably left with his memory. Jack shuddered at the thought, and cautiously stepped towards the hospital door, feeling blinded by the brightness of the hospital threatening the darkness’s peace.

“It’s getting late, I’ll be in there to pick you up soon,” Shitty called after Jack, who was already past the entrance.

Jack wandered through the vast hallways until he caught sight of Lardo and the doctor from earlier talking. Lardo was nodding as the doctor poured information into her about the possibility of Bitty’s recovery of his memory. None of which Jack wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that tomorrow he’d be back to his normal self, baking what seemed like 20 pies a day, and making almond butter and blueberry and rhubarb preserve sandwiches with handwritten notes on the packaging. He did not want to face the indecipherable unknown. When he entered the hospital room to see Bitty sleeping, he realized that he was the one who faced the unknown time and time again, while Jack hid behind him, and Bitty will only have to face a bigger unknown this time, but with Jack’s help. Jack could feel the weight of it on his chest, and he sat in a chair beside the hospital bed. Having hope that Bitty and him could get through this couldn’t put his heart back together. He’d have to do that himself.

Slowly but surely, Jack leaned back in the chair, with his head hanging off of the back, and his eyes started to shut, flushing out the rest of the world from his senses as he fell asleep.

“Jack?”

The sound of his own name caused Jack’s eyes to flutter open. He immediately sat upright in his chair once he realized it was Bitty’s voice. He surveyed the room, and found Bitty still sitting on the hospital bed, this time looking at Jack attentively, as if he was waiting for an answer. This time, though, a morning sunlight from a nearby window lit up Bitty’s face, making his expression ever so prominent.

“Bitty!” Jack exclaimed, leaning over towards the hospital bed. “You remember my name. You remember me, right? Right?” he insisted with anticipation.

Bitty shook his head and averted his gaze to his hands. “I’m sorry,” he told Jack. “I don’t. I was just told your name by Larissa. Is Bitty a nickname?”

Hearing Bitty refer to Lardo as Larissa stung, and what stung even more was that Bitty’s memory wasn’t jogged whatsoever. Jack was yanked from his pleasant cloud of hope back into reality. “Right,” Jack repeated, this time steadier than before, completely disregarding Bitty’s question. “Do you know where she is?”

Bitty thought for a moment, concentrating on remembering what Lardo, or Larissa, had told him. “She and her...boyfriend I think? Went back to the Haus? I think that’s what they called it,” he answered, unsure of the information he told Jack.

Jack and Bitty sat in an uncomfortable silence. Jack thought he could literally cut the awkward tension with a knife. He listened to the subtle whirr of a fan that sat in the corner of the hospital he and Bitty currently occupied. There was no sign of the doctor nearby, and Jack couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing. Jack saw Bitty staring out the window, obviously discouraged with himself. Jack thought the loss of Bitty’s memory was awful for him, but he couldn’t imagine what Bitty was feeling. He wished he knew. In any other circumstance, Bitty would tell him.

“Hey, Bits...I mean Eric,” Jack added the last part hastily when he caught yet another confused look from Bitty, “it’s okay that you don’t remember anything right now. I’m here for you, and I’m sure your memory will come back soon.”

Bitty nodded and slowly looked down at his lap where his hands rested. “Thanks…Jack.”

Suddenly Jack’s phone in his pocket rang, and he pulled it out to see Shitty was calling him. Jack quickly looked at the time on his phone before picking up, and saw that it was around 10 a.m. Jack was surprised Shitty was even awake so early on a Saturday, unless he planned to wake up and pick Jack up, but he had already decided he’d stay at the hospital until Bitty was discharged, despite whatever anyone said. He guessed he’d have to explain the situation to George, but he figured she’d understand, and he’d drive up and down from Providence to Samwell once Bitty was back at the Haus. He didn’t want to leave him, and if he could help Bitty get his memory back in any way possible, he’d be there to do so.

Mentally preparing for whatever Shitty had to say to him, he picked up the phone. “Hey, Shits.”

“Hey, man, I’m on my way with Lardo to pick you and Bitty up from the hospital,” Shitty explained over the phone, “the doctor said he’d be discharged sometime in the morning, and we just got a call saying he’s good to go.” Shitty sounded exhausted, both mentally and physically, which was another reminder that he usually isn’t up this early on weekends. “We also brought clothes for him to change into, Chowder helped me get some for him.”

“Oh, okay,” Jack replied, surprised. “You sound tired, when did you wake up?”

“I didn’t,” Shitty said, “I didn’t need to. I didn’t sleep at all last night.” After a long pause, he continued. “Sorry for leaving you there, you fell asleep and I figured you’d want to stay there.”

Jack shook his head. “No, it’s okay, I appreciate it actually,” he assured him.

“Okay, Jack, I gotta go,” Shitty concluded, “see you soon.”

“Yeah.” Jack hung up the phone and slid it back into his pocket. “Shitty is gonna be here soon,” he told Bitty, standing up. “I’m gonna go sign you out of the hospital so we can leave. Lard-Larissa will be there with him.” When he got an understanding nod from Bitty, he left the room.

The hallways seemed more palatable to the eyes during the day. The light that filled them was less artificial, and less intense. Jack passed from hallway to hallway, and waiting room to waiting room until he finally found a receptionist’s desk, and took discharge forms and a black ink pen to fill out. The ink bled into the white paper, making each stroke and lettering pop out. Once he was done, he turned the paperwork in, and headed back to Bitty’s room. His phone buzzed again, and he looked down once he pulled it out of his pocket to see a text from Shitty informing him that he was there and coming in. Jack wove his way through the hospital on the path he remembered coming from, and made it back to the room, only to sit patiently and wait for Shitty and Lardo. His leg bounced up and down, anxious to get out of the hospital, but also a nervous wreck for how many times he’d have to explain the loss of Bitty’s memory. He hoped that Ransom, Holster, Shitty, and Lardo had handled telling the team by now.

The door to the hospital room creaked open again, and Shitty and Lardo appeared in the doorway. When Jack took in Shitty’s appearance, it was obvious he hadn’t slept. His hair was a mess, dark rings circled his eyes, and he was wearing the same clothes as the previous night. Lardo looked quite the opposite. Her hair was neatly brushed, and she put on a new outfit before coming out to the hospital, and looked well-rested and ready to go.

Shitty tossed a small pile of clothes next to Bitty’s feet on the hospital bed. “Hey, brah, go change. We’re busting you outta here,” he joked, gesturing towards a door on the other side of the room facing Bitty that led to a small bathroom. Jack smiled at Shitty in gratitude for trying to keep the situation light-hearted. He wasn’t quite willing to play along, but he appreciated the effort.

Bitty gradually stood up and reached for the clothes, taking them with him as he walked towards the bathroom and closed the door. The sight of Bitty moving so slowly shocked Jack, and he never imagined he’d see him like this. It was tormenting to watch his sluggish and shaky steps across the tiled floor. Jack mentally compared it to all of the times he saw Bitty zip across the ice, reflexively dodging anyone or anything that threatened to hit him. He considered offering to help Bitty, but he didn’t know how keen this new and clueless Bitty was on him, so he decided to stay put.

Once Bitty finally made it to the bathroom and closed the door, Jack rubbed his hand on his face, and whispered, “Holy fucking shit.” Shitty and Lardo were visibly surprised by Jack cussing, they hardly ever heard him do it in their years of knowing him.

Neither of them said anything, though. They just watched as Bitty opened the door again in the clothes that Chowder had picked out for him. It was pretty standard in terms of Bitty fashion--a blue and white striped shirt with khaki pants, a black zip-up hoodie, and some gray tennis shoes.

“Alright, come on, Eric,” Lardo said, starting to lead Bitty out of the room and into the hallway, “let’s blow this popsicle stand!” Shitty laughed as Lardo and Bitty walked out of the room, and Jack got up to follow them, but Shitty held up a hand to stop him.

“They can wait for us in the car, I wanna talk,” Shitty told him. “This sucks. I know Bitty is usually your closest confidant, but I’ll be here for you.” He gave Jack a half-smile before saying, “I got your back.”

Jack chuckled. “Thanks, Shitty.” With that, he walked out of the room, in hopes of catching up with Lardo and Bitty, with Shitty behind him. As he got outside, he realized the hospital was a lot more attractive during the day. The windows shone in the sunlight, and he could clearly see the shadow of the building on the ground, giving much needed shade from the brightness of the sky. He turned to see Lardo pulled up in Shitty’s car with Bitty in the passenger seat.

“You’re driving?” Shitty questioned, an amused tone in his voice.

Lardo shrugged and rolled her eyes. “You snooze, you lose!”

Jack walked to the driver’s side of the car and sat behind Lardo while Shitty took the seat behind Bitty. The car ride back to the Haus consisted of little conversation. There was the occasion of Bitty asking questions, possibly about Samwell’s campus or about the restaurants they passed, but Jack tuned it out and Lardo did most of the talking. 

When they arrived at the Haus, Chowder basically burst out the door and ran towards the car while Nursey and Dex stood in the hallway. Nursey was laughing at Chowder, and Dex facepalmed.

“Yo, Chowder, chill!” Nursey called after him, but Chowder was already at the driveway.

Dex sighed. “Give Bitty some space!”

Chowder threw himself into Bitty for a hug. “I was so worried!” he exclaimed. 

“So Bitty is a nickname,” Bitty said.

Lardo nodded patiently. “And the boys call me Lardo,” she explained, starting to shove Chowder off of Bitty. “Chowder, Bitty lost his memory, remember? Don’t overwhelm him.”

Chowder stepped backwards. “Right, sorry.”

Dex turned to look at Nursey and whispered, “Wow, Bitty really did lose his memory.”

“I guess so,” Nursey shrugged and replied. “I wonder how Jack is handling this.”

Shitty patted Bitty on the back before saying, “Come on, Bits, let’s get you inside.”

As Lardo and Shitty brought Bitty inside, Chowder was staring at Jack expectantly.

Jack stared back, confused. “What?”

“So, Bitty actually lost his memory?” Chowder asked in disbelief. He paused to look Jack up and down before adding, “Did you spend the night at the hospital?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah,” he answered, brushing past him and walking into the Haus with no further conversation. He completely ignored whatever Dex and Nursey might have said to him as he walked past them, which raised both of their eyebrows in skepticism and confusion, but nonetheless he continued.

He walked through the dimly lit living room and ascended up the wooden stairs to Lardo’s room, where he saw Shitty and Lardo sitting on the bed. “Can I sit?” Lardo patted a portion of the bed beside her as an invitation, and Jack sat, starting to shake again. “I don’t know where I’m gonna stay this weekend.” 

“You can bunk with Ransom and Holster or Shitty and I, or maybe Chowder,” Lardo offered. “Bitty’s gonna get his memory back before you know it. Promise.”

Jack leaned forward and turned his head to face Lardo. “I hope you’re right.”

After sitting with Shitty and Lardo for a while, Jack heard the smoke detector going off. “I’ll go see what’s up,” he said, standing up and making his way downstairs. Once the bottom floor was in view, he noticed the smoke was floating upwards from the kitchen. As he stepped into the kitchen, he saw a frantic scene. Nursey was trying to carefully put balls of cookie dough on a baking sheet, while Chowder and Bitty were frantically fanning smoke coming from the oven, and Dex was crouching beside them, trying to figure out what was wrong with the oven. Jack rolled his eyes and walked towards the oven. He grabbed a dish towel, opened the oven, and took a baking sheet covered in cookies so burnt that if he had seen them anywhere else, he wouldn’t know what they were.

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of that before,” Dex muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Sorry, Jack.”

Jack shrugged. “It’s fine. What were you guys doing anyway?”

“We’re trying to teach Bitty how to bake again!” Chowder clarified, giving a wide smile full of braces.

“We thought it would jog his memory a bit,” Nursey added. “Seeing as we failed miserably, it probably didn’t.”

Bitty shook his head. “Y’all, I don’t know how to bake,” he said, “but that was definitely not what baking is.”

Jack let out a laugh, but it was short lived. Bitty didn’t remember how to bake. One of his favorite things to do. He had no idea how to do it. Bitty’s compassion spilled into his baking, and that was one of the reasons that Jack fell in love with him. But he had no recollection of it. Jack couldn’t wrap his head around it. Before he knew it, his heart started to beat faster, he could feel his hands clam up again, and he could feel his eyes filling with hot tears. He quickly turned around, and dashed up the stairs to Lardo’s room. As soon he was there, he closed the door and sat beside Lardo again, trying to catch his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Shitty asked calmly.

Jack heaved a hoarse breath before answering. “Bitty forgot how to bake.” Jack didn’t expect sympathy from Shitty or Lardo. He didn’t want it either, he just wanted his world to stop crumbling around him.

Shitty’s lips were pressed into a thin line and Lardo’s eyebrows were furrowed. Jack could see their faces, and how dejected Lardo was, and how tired Shitty was. They hated the situation too. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’m being selfish, aren’t I?”

Lardo shook her head. “No, don’t apologize, there’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” she told him. “This is hard, but we’re going to get through this together.” Looking into Jack’s eyes, she also said, “And Bitty’s waiting on the other side for you.”

Jack thought about when he first saw the hospital the previous night, and how it towered over them like a large castle. He thought about the winding corridors throughout it, and how the lights hurt his eyes. Everyone else there had to see it, too. Ransom, Holster, Shitty, Lardo, and even worse, Bitty. Now everyone is taking care of Bitty, and Chowder, Dex, and Nursey are even trying to get his memory back, while Jack thought he was doing nothing for Bitty. Jack felt utterly useless and helpless. There was nothing Jack could think of that he could do, though. He had to keep his distance, and try not to let Bitty see his lack of memory get to him, which was already nearly an impossible task. Jack finally nodded, and stood up again. 

“I have to call George,” he told the pair, walking out of the room and into the hallway. Slowly and shakily, he took his phone out, pulled up the contact, and pressed the call button. “Hey, George.”

“Jack! Where are you?” Georgia Martin’s energized voice filled Jack’s ears. “I thought you were driving back to Providence today!” She must have heard Jack’s shaky breath, because she followed with, “What’s wrong?”

Jack had to search for his words again, and after a while finally had enough to speak. “Um...Bittle lost his memory,” he answered. “He got hit really hard during his game. Head injury.” He paused before he finally stated, “We don’t know when he’s getting it back. I might be down here for a while.”

“Wow, okay,” George said, sounding like she was taking it all in. “I’m so sorry, take your time. I’ll let the team and the coaches know.”

“Yeah. Um...thanks,” Jack exhaled.

“And if there’s anything the team or I can do, please let us know,” George added. “Jack, I’m sorry, I gotta go. Goodbye, don’t hesitate to reach out!” 

Jack nodded. “Thanks, bye.” Jack sighed and hung up the phone. He opened the door to Lardo and Shitty’s room and informed them, “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll crash with Ransom and Holster tonight,” and headed upstairs to the attic.

The next morning, Jack woke up next to Ransom and Holster’s bunk beds, with sunlight streaming through their circular window and illuminating the room. He rose to his feet and groggily walked out of the attic and down the stairs, and once he got to the living room, he found Lardo and Shitty just about to leave the Haus.

“Where are Ransom and Holster?” Jack asked the two. “And Bitty?”

“Oh, they went out to brunch with Chowder, Nursey, and Dex,” Lardo explained. “Shitty and I were just about to go shopping. Wanna come?”

Jack shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

“Suit yourself,” Shitty said, “see ya.”

When the door shut, Jack was alone. He supposed it might be good, he might be able to go upstairs and change out of the clothes he had been wearing for 24 hours. Once he finally put on a outfit, he decided to sit on the green couch. The one that Bitty had been trying to get rid of since he moved into the Haus. Jack sunk into the green cushions and stared out the window. It didn’t occur to him to eat breakfast at the time, he was just hoping that maybe once Bitty returned to the house he would have some inkling of who he was, what Samwell was, and who Jack was. Jack’s mind was plagued with the question of whether or not he’d even see Bitty get his memory back, even though he knew the thought was probably absurd. Bitty would get his memory back. He had to. Or else Jack would never be the same person again.

Jack heard the door click and saw it swing open to Dex, Chowder, and Nursey with Ransom, Holster, and Bitty following them, all grinning and smiling. Chowder talked Dex’s ear off while Nursey rolled his eyes, even though that was Nursey’s favorite part about Chowder. Ransom and Holster were chatting with Bitty, whose eyes were lit up with delight.

“Goodness gracious me, you’re telling me I have a boyfriend?” Bitty questioned in disbelief. “Who? Who is it?”

Jack stood up, and when the six of them looked at Jack, a blanket of silence fell over them. Whatever fantasy Jack previously had about Bitty’s memory miraculously returning once he saw him again was thrown out the window. Jack started shaking again, and the sound of his pulse got louder in his ears with each breath, and his face got warmer every second. Jack opened his mouth but said nothing as he surveyed the small crowd watching them. Dex and Nursey avoided his gaze, Chowder furrowed his eyebrows and frowned, and Ransom and Holster were looking at each other in panic. It was Bitty who looked into Jack’s eyes, and Jack could see the concern on Bitty’s face. Jack’s lip started to quiver slightly, as he then knew that Bitty never lost his personality, just his memories. He would still be the same Bitty Jack loved, but Bitty couldn’t remember loving him.

Turning around, Jack swiftly walked up the stairs, gripping the rails as he went. He felt like his legs would give out beneath him, and when he got to the attic he closed the door and slid to the floor, burying his face into his knees. Tears were at the corners of his eyes again, and this time they finally spilled out onto his cheeks. Days of frustration, stress, and misery poured out of him as his entire body trembled. Jack started to lose touch with the world around him and felt like he was floating in space, trying to find a spot to land, but there was no solid ground nearby. Only when there was a knock on the door and he heard a voice call his name did he become aware of the feeling of the floor beneath his feet again. Regaining his strength, Jack got up and slowly pulled the door open to see Bitty in tears as well.

“Jack, I’m so sorry,” Bitty said through his tears. Bitty stepped towards Jack and pulled him into a hug before saying, “I’m so sorry I don’t remember you.” Bitty’s face was in Jack’s chest when he added, “I’m so sorry I can’t be who you want me to be.”

Jack, still shaking and in tears, returned the hug and held Bitty for a moment before responding. “Sh, it’s okay, Bits. It’s okay.” He pulled away to look at Bitty, who was a crying mess, and Jack imagined he probably looked the same. “We’ll be okay.” Jack pulled him in again, tighter this time, with his chin resting on Bitty’s head. “I love you.”

Jack felt like his entire world was changing, and his own foundation was opening up beneath his feat, but he still loved Bitty, even if Bitty didn’t love him back, and maybe that was all that mattered.


End file.
